


The Fear of Uncertain Fate

by hobbleit



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4355750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbleit/pseuds/hobbleit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Musketeers adjust to living in a new country, someone from the past waits in the shadows for their revenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to God Damns Us to Fire was asked for so I am writing it. Updates may be a little sporadic over the next couple of weeks, my work shifts are a bit weird.
> 
> I've been reading Twenty Years After and in it Athos can speak English fluently and d'Artagnan can't speak any. Just a little bit of background I've pinched for the purposes of the story.
> 
> The title is from The Mourning Eulogy by Junius.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

Chapter One

England was a very strange country, d’Artagnan had decided.  The country was strange, the people were strange and the language was very strange.  He couldn’t understand a single word they spoke.  Luckily Athos was fluent so at least he could communicate with people and relay the information back to him.  He still felt completely useless.  He hated London.  Despite being filthy and crowded like Paris there was nothing else that reminded him of home and as a result he felt completely homesick.  He was tired and fed up of not feeling safe and secure.  He couldn’t help but think that every day was going to be his last and Rochefort would discover where he and Athos were.

Athos had suggested moving out of the city to somewhere rural and out of the way.  He reasoned that Rochefort would be more likely to scour a big city like London to find them but d’Artagnan had wanted to stay in the capital to wait for Aramis and Porthos.

And then there was all the pretending.  They were constantly lying to everyone around them.  They couldn’t allow anyone to know the true nature of their relationship so they could only be friends in public.  They were using false names to make it harder to be found.  They couldn’t be former Musketeers because it would make it easier to be found and when questioned by the locals as to why two Frenchmen had left their country to settle in England it was easier to lie and say they were Protestants who were unhappy with how they were being treated in France.  After several months the lies came easily.

He never asked Athos how he felt about their situation but he had a feeling that it would be similar to how d’Artagnan felt.  He always complained that the weather was terrible and the food bland but on the whole he had settled better than d’Artagnan had.  At least Athos could hold full conversations with people.

D’Artagnan felt lonely.  Apart from Athos there was no-one he could talk to.  He spent his days working with people he didn’t understand just so he could spend the night with the man he loved.  He missed Paris.  He missed being a Musketeer but most of all he missed his friends.  He missed the camaraderie between them and more than anything he wanted that back.  He didn’t tell Athos any of this but he spent the first few months in that strange new country feeling very alone.

Then one evening he made his way to Athos’ house and found Aramis and Porthos standing in front of him and all of a sudden he didn’t feel so lonely.  Their friends were alive and had found them and now they were all together again it all just felt a little bit easier.  At least one thing could go right for them.

The first night they had sat together in Athos’ tiny house and talked.  They caught up with each other’s stories and joked like old times.  D’Artagnan had curled up by Athos’ side and, for the first time in months, had genuinely laughed.  It felt like old times.

“Are you going to stay?”  D’Artagnan had hesitantly asked late on in the evening.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer if they said no.

“What would you say if we did?”  Porthos asked back, a mischievous grin on his face.

“I would say that I would like that.”

“Then I would say we would love to.”

D’Artagnan grinned and turned to Athos who smiled gently at his younger lover and pulled him in for a soft kiss.

“So, how is England?”  Porthos interrupted the tender moment.  “Is it everything you hoped for?”

“It is very… English,” Athos replied.  “I don’t think there is any other way to describe it.  It rains more than you’d like, the food is bland and the wine is terrible.”

“And they talk very strange,” d’Artagnan added.

“D’Artagnan hasn’t learned to speak the language yet,” Athos explained.  “Anyway, it is starting to get late, I can get you some blankets if you like.”  He turned to d’Artagnan, “are you going to stay the night?”

“Yes,” he replied.  “I want to be near all of you.”

Athos’ house consisted of two rooms; a living area and a bedroom.  It was small but could easily hold all four of them.  He found blankets for Aramis and Porthos and left them in the living area to curl up next to d’Artagnan in bed.

“I missed them,” d’Artagnan said as Athos lay down and took him in his arms.  He lay his head on Athos’ chest and smiled to himself.  “It felt like there was something missing and now there’s not.”

“I know what you mean,” Athos replied.  “I don’t think I truly realised how much I missed them until I saw them again.  It was like a constant dull ache that I could manage to ignore.  Now I feel so much lighter knowing they are all right.”

“Maybe you can smile a little more now,” Athos said to him.  “I think you have smiled less than me the last few months.”

“And you smiling is a rarity,” d’Artagnan joked before raising his head to kiss Athos.  “It has been quite the adjustment moving to England.  I don’t really think that I fit in here.”

“You will feel differently eventually.  It will more than likely be our home for the rest of our lives.  We are never likely to return to France unless everyone involved in our conviction happens to die.”

“I would kill them if I could.”

“Even the King?”

“Even the King.  I miss France so much.”

“London isn’t so bad.  It would be bearable if the wine was drinkable.  Beer is a foul drink, I don’t know how they can stand it.”

“But don’t you think that the atmosphere is different.  I am under no illusions that Paris is the perfect city but compared to London it is a paradise.”

“I am sure a Londoner would say exactly the opposite.  I know you are having a hard time adjusting, it hasn’t been easy for me either, but you will in time.  It will get easier.”

“I know.  I don’t hate everything about London.  Maybe now Aramis and Porthos are here we could move somewhere else.  My heart is yearning for the countryside.”

“That can be an option.  We should talk to Aramis and Porthos about it.  I have already said that it would be harder for Rochefort to find us away from big towns.”

“I could find work on a farm.  If I cannot be a Musketeer then I can go back to being a farmer.”

“I think I would like to see that.”

D’Artagnan grinned, “I’m sure you would.”

Athos ran his hand under d’Artagnan’s shirt, lightly tracing his fingers up and down the warm skin beneath them.  He felt the younger man shiver.  He leaned down and kissed him deeply. 

“I love you,” d’Artagnan whispered when they finally broke the kiss and, breathing heavily he rolled over so he was lying on top of Athos.  “I’m glad we’re here.  I am glad they didn’t kill you.”

“I love you too,” Athos replied.  He ran his fingers over the scars on d’Artagnan’s back from where he had been whipped.  A permanent physical reminder of what they had been through.  “Do they hurt?”  He asked.

“Not anymore.  They used to hurt a lot.  At the time I thought I was going to die because the pain was so bad but now they don’t hurt.  They just feel a little but tight sometimes.”

“I wish you hadn’t had to go through that.  I tried so hard to save you from being hurt.  I would have happily died if it meant that you were safe.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to live if you had died.  A few lashes of the whip was worth being able to be with you here.”

“Maybe we need to live less dangerous lives,” Athos chuckled.

“Or be more discreet,” d’Artagnan replied.  “No more kissing in alleys.”

“That was your idea if I am remembering correctly.”

“Sometimes I have stupid ideas,” d’Artagnan laughed.  “Fun but stupid.”

“Will you two shut up?  We’re tryin’ to sleep,” Porthos called through the wall.

D’Artagnan and Athos laughed.  “Maybe we should just sleep tonight,” Athos said.

“All right,” d’Artagnan replied as he rolled off his lover.  “But tomorrow we should send them to my house and lock the doors.”

“I thought you were glad they were here,” Athos teased.

“I am but not when they get in the way of our fun.”

-x-

If the weather had been bad in the summer as the season turned it became even worse.  If the rain had been bad then adding a cold and biting wind into the mix as winter approached made the days even worse.  The sky was constantly grey, it was if the sun had given up even trying to shine.  Six months in London and Athos had barely seen the sun.

No wonder people in England were always depressed, Athos thought to himself as he turned his collar up and hurried through the narrow streets. 

“Good evening madame,” he greeted his neighbour; a middle aged dumpy woman who was always pleasant to him, and tipped his hat.  She smiled, her stained teeth showing.  “How is your husband?”

“Oh you know,” she replied, “just the same.  Always complaining about his dodgy knees.  How about you, are your friends coming over this evening?”

Athos nodded.  Even though they had all found somewhere of their own to live they spent most of their evenings at Athos’ house.  D’Artagnan practically lived there.  If it wasn’t for the fact they were trying to stay hidden then the younger man probably would live there.

“They are a nice bunch even though that young one never talks to me.”

“He just doesn’t understand you,” Athos explained.  “He doesn’t know much English.”

“Shouldn’t he learn some?”

“He’s from Gascony, they’re notably stubborn,” she laughed even though she had no idea what Athos was talking about.  “I’m sure he will in time.”

Once upon a time, back when he was a Musketeer, Athos would have known when someone was following him.  He would have been able to sense the person walking behind him, stalking his every move and would have been able to protect himself.  As it was he had become lax.  Although he knew that there was a chance that someone from Paris may come to London to find him he had let himself believe that he was safe.  That had been his first mistake.

The second had been stopping to talk to his neighbour.  This allowed his stalker to see his exact position and keep an eye on his at all times.

He didn’t realise that anyone was following him when he opened his door and went inside his house. The stranger went up to his door and quietly pushed it open, slipping inside with barely a sound.  Athos had his back to the door and didn’t see him creep up on him until it was too late.  He felt himself being slammed against the wall.

“I’ve been looking for you for quite a while,” the man said in French as he grabbed hold of Athos’ throat and squeezed.  “You are a very hard man to find.”

Athos immediately reacted and pushed the man away.  He pushed past him and grabbed his sword, which he kept displayed on the wall, just as the man drew his.  “You must be one of Rochefort’s men,” he said.

“He is very angry with you,” he replied as they clashed swords.  Athos hadn’t really trained for months but he was still the superior swordsman.

“He should have just left it alone,” Athos told him.  “Or is his pride too great for that?”

“You will be taken back to France for execution, as will your friends.”

“That will never happen,” Athos said as they continued fighting.  Despite Athos being the better swordsman this man was not averse to fighting dirty and soon he had Athos on the floor, his knee in Athos’ stomach, holding him down.

“I could kill you right now.  You bring shame on the people of France with your disgusting perversion but Rochefort wants you more."  He grabbed hold of Athos’ hair tightly and slammed his head onto the ground until Athos was unconscious. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

“Something’s not right,” Aramis announced as he pushed open the door to Athos’ house.  It was a mess.  The furniture had been knocked over and there were signs of a struggle.  “There’s been a fight here.”

“Where’s Athos?”  Porthos asked as he entered the house and began looking around.  “Do you think he was involved?”

“I would guess that he was.  Someone came after him.”

“From France?  Some of Rochefort’s men?”

“That would be my first guess.  Athos has been keeping a low profile so I doubt he has many enemies in England.  Damn it!”  He cried and kicked the chair that was lying overturned on the floor.  “It was supposed to be safe here.  They weren’t supposed to be able to find us.”

“He can’t’ve been gone too long,” Porthos said trying to be helpful.  “He’d only’ve finished working a couple of hours ago.”

“That’s plenty of time to move him somewhere.  We don’t even know if he’d still in London and even if he is it’d be like looking for a needle in a haystack.  Neither of us know the city as well as we know Paris.”

“We need to get d’Artagnan.”

“Why?”  A voice came from behind them.  They turned and saw the younger man standing in the doorway looking confused.  “What’s going on?”

“Someone’s got Athos,” Porthos replied.  “There’s been a fight here and Athos is gone.”

D’Artagnan went deathly pale.  His worst fears were coming true.  “They found us,” he said quietly, his voice unable to rise above a whisper.

“Looks like it,” Porthos said.  “We need to find out what happened which means we need to ask around if anyone’s seen him in the last few hours.”

“And how do we do that?”  Aramis asked.  “You and d’Artagnan speak no English and nobody here speaks French.”

“We need to do something,” d’Artagnan replied, unable to keep the fear from his voice.  He was terrified that he would never see his lover again.  “He could be anywhere by now and the longer we wait the more behind we will be.  He could be anywhere by now.  He could be on his way back to France.”

“Let me do the talking then,” Aramis told him.  He was the only other one apart from Athos that knew any English.

-x-

“Excusez-moi madame,” Aramis greeted Athos’ neighbour, the one Athos had been speaking to earlier.  He smiled politely at her and she smiled back.  “I was wondering if you could help us,” he asked in heavily French accented English.  “Have you seen our friend, Monsieur Athos?  He is not at home.”

“I saw him earlier, can’t be more than a couple of hours ago.  He was going home, I saw him go inside.”

“What about after that?  Did you see him come out later?”

“I have seven kids to look after, I’m too busy to notice the comings and goings of everyone on the street.”

Aramis sighed, “Please madame, this is important.  We are very worried for him.”

“There was a man, he’s been lurking around here for a few days watching Athos’ house.  I saw him following him but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“What did he look like?”  Aramis asked weakly, fearing the worst.

“He was tall and skinny, I think he had dark hair but he was wearing a hat so it was hard to tell.”

“Was he French?”

“Well he dressed a lot like you,” she replied and Aramis didn’t think she meant it as a compliment by her tone of voice.  “I didn’t hear him speak though.”

“Thank you madame,” Aramis said and turned to Porthos and d’Artagnan.  “She saw a man following Athos over the last few days.  He was here a couple of hours ago.  She didn’t see this man enter the house but I would assume he is the one who has taken Athos.”

“So what do we do now?”  Porthos asked.

“Someone must have seen something so we just need to keep asking around.  There’s nothing more we can do until we have more information.  But I would assume that if they are after Athos then they will be after the rest of us.  He isn’t the only one Rochefort wants to kill.  This man might come to us.

“D’Artagnan you stay at Athos’ house, look for any clues and maybe this man might return; he knows you’re here but he might not know about Porthos and I so I would like to keep knowledge of our being here hidden for as long as possible.  Keep your sword with you.  Porthos and I will go and see what else we can find out.”

“Be careful,” d’Artagnan said.  “If someone managed to take Athos then they have to be very dangerous.  He wouldn’t let that happen without a fight.”

“We will, you be on your guard as well,” Porthos said to the younger man.  “Whoever this man is he’ll definitely be after you too.”

-x-

Athos woke up with a pounding head and for a moment he wondered how much alcohol he had drunk the night before.  It was several minutes before he remembered that it had been late afternoon and he hadn’t been drinking.  Then he realised his arms and ankles were bound tightly together and he was on the floor in a darkened room.

He groaned.  What the hell had happened?  He remembered walking home and talking to his neighbour.  Then he remembered the fight but it all went black after that.  The man had said he was working for Rochefort, Athos recalled and he fell his stomach lurch.  Nothing good was going to come of this.

Where was he being held?  He thought.  Had they moved him out of London or was he being kept there until they took him back to France and certain death.  He wondered if Aramis, Porthos and d’Artagnan were all right.  He really hoped they were.

Athos was alone in the room and he hated the silence.  He tried to shift his body but it was hard to do.  His mind raced with various scenarios as to what might have happened.  He just wanted the opportunity to confront his attacker and find out what his fate would be.  It didn’t seem like that was going to happen any time soon.

After what felt like several hours the door opened and a small shaft of light flooded into the room.  A man walked in and Athos lifted his head to try and get a better look at him.  He wasn’t the same man who had attacked him in his home, he was shorter and fatter.  So there are more than one of them, Athos thought to himself.  He kept that in mind for future reference.

“Who are you?”  He asked the man in French. 

“None of your business,” he replied in the same language.

“Tell me who you are.”

The man knelt down next to Athos and leaned in close to him.  “I am the man who will deliver you to your fate.”

“How many of you are there?”

“More than you can deal with.”

“I know there’s at least two of you.  I don’t think Rochefort would want to risk sending too many men.  He wants to keep this as quiet as possible am I right?”  The man said nothing.  “So I am right.”

“You know nothing.”

“I know you’re not exactly intimidating.  The only reason you’re not dead right now is because I can’t kill you tied up.”

The man stood up and kicked Athos hard in the stomach.  He coughed loudly as he struggled to breathe and tried not to be sick.  “Rochefort wants you back in France alive.  He never said anything about being in one piece.”

“Where are my friends?”  Athos gasped.

“That is none of your concern.  You are the one Rochefort wants most of all, the others are just a bonus.”

“You don’t know where they are, do you?”  Athos realised in relief.  They obviously hadn’t been caught otherwise he would have gloated to him so it meant that they must still be free.  He hoped they had discovered what had happened to him and were now hiding.  He didn’t want them in danger too.

“We will find them but it does not matter.  We leave for France in two days with or without them.”

“I hope they kill you.”

The man ignored Athos’ words.  “In the meantime we intend to have a little fun with you,” he said as he walked over to the table in the corner of the room.”

“What are you doing?”  Athos asked, suddenly feeling very panicked.  He had a very bad feeling that something terrible was going to happen to him.

The man picked up a strip of cloth from the table and used it to gag Athos.  “I am tired of your talking,” he said as he lit a candle on the table and shut the door of the room, locking it from the inside.  He walked back over to Athos and grabbed his hair, pulling it tight and forcing him to look him in the eyes.  “Now, where should I start?”

-x-

He could feel the blood running down his head.  He could almost hear it dripping onto the floor.  There wasn’t a part of Athos that didn’t hurt anymore, the man had been very thorough with his beating.  Athos was certain that a few bones had been broken.  He could do nothing but lie there on the cold, hard floor; bound and gagged and hope that he would be found.

The pain was making it hard for Athos to stay conscious but he tried his hardest.  He didn’t want to black out and never wake up again.  He wanted to find a way to escape, even though it felt like an impossibility at the moment.  He wanted to hear his friends rescue him and most of all he wanted to be awake when he was freed so he could kill the man who had tortured him.  Sadly, he thought to himself, that was never going to happen. 

A sharp wave of pain hit him suddenly and he had to breathe deeply through his nose until it passed or he thought that he was going to throw up.  Athos felt miserable.  He was completely alone in a pitch black room and no-one knew where he was.  He was in pain.  He was hungry and he was thirsty and in two days he would be shipped back to Paris to be executed like he should have been all those months ago.

No, he determinedly thought to himself.  He wasn’t going to allow himself to wallow in self-pity.  He had escaped certain death before and he could do so again.  He hadn’t left France to start a new life just to allow himself to be captured again.  He was going to live and stay in England so he and d’Artagnan could spend the rest of their lives together, however long that may be.  He was going to live.  Rochefort’s pathetic men were not going to kill him nor was he going to just let them take him to his death.  The first opportunity he got, he decided, he was going to escape.  He couldn’t rely on his friends to find him, he decided, it might take them days before they found out where he was.  He was going to have to do this himself.

Just as soon as he could think up a workable plan to do so. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

D’Artagnan felt like he had spent more time pacing up and down than actually searching Athos’ house for clues but he was worrying so much for Athos that he couldn’t concentrate.  He felt like he could be sick his stomach was turning so much.  He didn’t think he had stopped crying since he had returned.  Feeling completely miserable he flopped down onto the bed and curled up.

The sheets smelled like Athos and d’Artagnan took a moment just to breathe in his scent.  It almost comforted him until he remembered that Athos had been taken and then the tears began to flow once more.  He wondered where Athos was and if he was all right.  Was he even still alive?  No, he thought, if it was Rochefort who was behind this then he would want Athos alive so he could watch his death himself.  He had to still be alive.  They just needed to find him.

He wished that Aramis and Porthos would return with some more information on Athos’ whereabouts.  He wasn’t sure they would even find anything but he had to hope.  It was all he had at the moment.

Time passed and d’Artagnan felt himself begin to fall asleep.  Everything felt hazy and for a few moments he felt at peace.  He wished Athos was beside him, holding him in his arms until he fell asleep but there was no-one there.  He was all alone.

Or was he?  D’Artagnan was sure he could feel someone else on the house and it definitely wasn’t Aramis or Porthos.  He clasped the sword he had been holding since he had gone back to Athos’ tight and prepared to fight whoever it was.  He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep and listened for the quiet footsteps that were coming closer and closer towards him.

D’Artagnan took the man by surprise as he entered the bedroom and hovered over the younger man.  He grabbed his arm tight and threw him to the floor before pointing his sword at him.

“Who are you?”  He asked.

“I’m no-one,” the man replied in French.  D’Artagnan was certain this was the same man who had taken Athos.

“You’re the one who took Athos, aren’t you?”  He said.  “And now you’ve come back for me.  Where is Athos?”

“You’ll find out soon enough when you join him.  Rochefort wants you returned to France as quickly as possible.”

“I am not returning to France and neither is Athos.  Tell me where he is and I will make your death as quick as possible.”

“There is no way I am telling you anything,” the man spat at him.  “You can kill me if you want but there are more of us and we will succeed.”

D’Artagnan snorted in derision, he wasn’t going to let this man know just how worried he was.  “I will find you all and kill you,” he replied as he grabbed the man and roughly tied his arms behind his back.  “My friends will be back soon.  We will make you talk.”

-x-

Porthos sighed as they turned down yet another narrow and filthy street.  London was hell he had decided, even more so than Paris because at least in Paris he could talk to people.  He was basically just wandering around a strange city and looking confused as Aramis talked to various people in a language he didn’t understand.  He was beginning to wish he had stayed with d’Artagnan.

“Anything?”  He asked Aramis as he walked away from yet another person.  They had found out no new information so far.

“Nothing,” he replied.  “No-one has seen anything.”

“Do you think they’re telling the truth?”

“They have no reason to lie.  It’s not like they really know Athos and they certainly have nothing to gain by hiding him.  I think it’s more likely that whoever is behind this is hiding very well.”

“How much longer are we going to do this?  If no-one knows anything then we might as well just go back to d’Artagnan and figure out a new plan of attack.”

“You’re right.  We’re not going to find anything out from these people, they know nothing and we’re just wasting time walking the streets.  We’ll come up with a new plan.  Maybe d’Artagnan’s found something we haven’t.”

“He can’t have found any less.”

Aramis laughed humourlessly, he really didn’t feel like there was anything to laugh about.  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he replied.

“I know.  It was supposed to be easy.  We were supposed to come to England and start a new life.  We should’a known Rochefort wouldn’t give up.”

“I think we have seriously underestimated him and his desire to get his revenge against us.  He really hates us and I don’t think he’s to stop until we are all dead.”

“We did humiliate him pretty good, he’s gotta hate that.”

“That doesn’t bode well for us.  If anything it makes him even more dangerous.”

“Then we have to find Athos before they have the chance to take him back to France.”

“We’re going to have to go on the run again.  London is no longer safe for any of us.”

“Head for the country then?”

“I suppose so.  It’s the best thing to do in the short term.  Once we find Athos and get him away we’ll find somewhere safe and decide from there.  Let’s just get back to d’Artagnan so we can figure everything out.”

Porthos had no idea where they were so he just followed Aramis’ lead as they made their way through the bustling streets.  He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, hating how cold it was in the city.  He really wished he was back in Paris.

They knew something had happened as soon as they approached Athos’ house and saw the door was open.  Drawing their swords, they crept into the house prepared to fight.  As soon as they entered the house they knew that they could relax for a moment.

They saw a man on the floor of the bedroom, tied up with d’Artagnan standing over him.  He gave his friends a small smile.

“You’re back, good,” he said by way of greeting.  “I was just about to get him to talk.”

-x-

Athos bit back a groan of pain.  No matter how much pain he was in he wasn’t going to let his captors know that.  He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much the torture was hurting them.

He had figured out that there were five men who took it in turns to watch him and every few hours beat him.  At least he assumed it was hours, he really had no way of knowing how long he had been held in this dark and tiny room.  It could have been days for all he knew, he had passed out a few times after a few heavy beatings.

He was in agony.  He ached down to his bones and beyond.  His head hurt, his chest hurt and he was finding it hard to breathe.  His arms ached from being tied behind his back.  He felt sick from numerous kicks to the stomach and he had a suspicion that his left leg was broken.  But still he didn’t make a noise.

Although he knew deep down that there was no way he could successfully escape; he was too badly injured to do so but that didn’t stop him thinking of ways to escape.  It kept his mind active and his will strong.  As long as he could think of these plans he could imagine that they could happen.  That he could be freed.

In reality there was nothing he could really do but wait for his friends to find him and that could take a while.  If they did at all.

He didn’t want to think so pessimistically but a part of him couldn’t help himself.  His mind would every so often contemplate the worst possible case scenario.  And they all ended in his death.  That wasn’t very comforting.

He heard the door open and he immediately tensed, expecting at best another beating at worst to be moved.  Neither of those things happened.  Athos was pulled into a sitting position and one of his captors pulled the gag from his mouth before forcing some water down his throat.  How Athos wished it was wine.

“Have to keep you alive,” the man muttered.  “You’re no good to us dead.”

Athos nearly choked on the amount of water the man was attempting to make him drink but he could not stop him.  Finally he pulled the bottle away and Athos began gasping for air.  He glared angrily at the man in front of him, still unable to speak coherently.

“I hate England,” the man told him.  “It is dirty and smelly and it always rains.”

Athos was amazed the man was actually talking to him, mostly they just ignored him.  “So is Paris,” he managed to utter, his voice rough from coughing.

“But Paris is home.”

“And England is home to many.  They would find Paris unbearable.”

“They want to be here.  I don’t.”

“So you are taking your anger at being in a foreign country on me?  Why not on Rochefort?  He is the one who sent you here.”

“After a pervert and a sodomite.  You are disgusting.”

Athos shook his head.  The man would never understand.  “I fell in love,” he simply replied.

“With another man!  How can that be love?  You brought shame on your regiment, on every regiment and on your country.  You must die for that.”

“Is that your belief or Rochefort’s?”

“What you did was wrong.”

“I know it is wrong.  I know that people cannot accept that two men can love each other.  I accept that the church will not accept it nor the King and I accept that God will more than likely not accept it either but it does not change the fact that I fell in love with another man.  I am willing to die for that but I would rather just live out the rest of my days in peace before being judged.  I think it is more likely Rochefort’s wounded pride that is behind this.”

The man stared dumbly at Athos not knowing what to say to him after his speech.  It was as if he had never actually considered things from Athos’ point of view and it was only just now that he was beginning to think. Eventually he spoke.

“Why did you give in to your desires?”

“Are you married?”  Athos asked.  The man shook his head.  “Do you love a woman?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to marry her?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you fall in love with her?”

“Because she is sweet and kind.”

“D’Artagnan is noble and honourable.  He is loyal and he loves unconditionally.  It was easy to fall in love with him.”

The man sat down next to Athos.  “I just don’t understand.”

“Sometimes it is not our place to question who we fall in love with and why.  Not all questions have answers.  I loved a woman once.  She is a murderer.  Is that love any more acceptable than the love I have for d’Artagnan?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.  “All I know is what I have been taught and I was taught it was wrong to love another man.”

“So was I but my belief changed when it happened.”

“Do you want to die?”

“No I don’t.  There was a time when my answer might have been different but now I want to live.”

“Rochefort is going to make sure you die.”

“I know but I don’t think it is my choice of lover that made his decision.”

“I don’t like him,” the man admitted.  “I don’t think he is working in France’s best interests.  The King loves him though.  He says Rochefort is the only man he trusts.”

“Rochefort has been working to destroy the Musketeer regiment for as long as he has been back in France.  I had no idea his own Red Guards felt this way.”

“I am not a Red Guard,” he confessed.  “I am just a man he hired to find you.”

“What is your name?”  Athos asked.

“Poirier,” he answered.

“How long before I am moved, Poirier?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Athos said and he hoped that he had just found a new ally.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Porthos picked the man up and dropped him roughly into a chair. 

“Start talking,” Aramis told him.  He looked at Aramis but did not say a word.  “Where is Athos?”  Still nothing.

“We’re not goin’ to get very far,” Porthos said to Aramis.  “He ain’ gonna talk.”

“I think he will,” Aramis replied.  “We just need to be a little more persuasive.”

D’Artagnan had taken a back seat in the interrogation and was leaning against the wall watching his two friends intently.  He was resisting the very strong urge to run their prisoner through with a sword so, instead, he stayed silent as Aramis and Porthos tried to make him speak.

He watched as Aramis leaned in and whispered something in the man’s ear causing his to turn very white.  D’Artagnan had no idea what Aramis had said but it worked very effectively, causing the man to stammer something incoherently.  D’Artagnan, unable to contain himself any longer, pushed himself away from the wall, grabbed his sword and placed it against the man’s throat.

“What did you say?”  He asked with a threatening tone to his voice.  The man looked at him in terror.  He had obviously forgotten d’Artagnan remained in the room whilst Aramis and Porthos were trying to get him to talk.  “Don’t be shy, tell us what you said.”

“You’re too late,” he muttered.  “Athos is gone.”

D’Artagnan snorted.  “I don’t think that you are telling us the truth.  You see, Porthos and Aramis have been looking all over London and when they went to the docks there had been no ships heading towards France so,” he continued, “Athos is either still in London or you are moving him to Dover to gain passage to a ship which means he will still be in England for at least another day.  Now, which one is it?”  He pressed his sword harder on the man’s skin as a warning for him not to lie.

“You cannot stop us,” he hissed, suddenly finding a new courage.  “Athos will be returned to France and you will join him in death.”

“I think that you are closer to death than I am at the moment,” d’Artagnan replied, his voice equally harsh.  “I know that Athos is still in London and you will tell me where he is or you will die.”

“Then you will never find him.”

D’Artagnan felt the anger grow stronger and stronger inside him and he very nearly stabbed the man with his sword.  Porthos saw how angry the younger man was and pulled him away.

“Killing him won’ save Athos,” he told d’Artagnan.

“This is useless,” d’Artagnan replied.  “He is not going to tell us where Athos is and we’re wasting precious minutes trying to get him to talk.”

“He will talk,” Porthos told him.  “Maybe you should go outside and get some air.  You’ve been cooped up here all day.”

D’Artagnan wanted to protest, to argue that he could be just as much use here, but the look on Porthos’ face made him think otherwise.  Instead he sighed deeply and turned, exiting the house onto the street.  Night was beginning to fall and, although the rain had stopped finally, it was rather cold.  D’Artagnan wrapped his arms around his body to try and warm himself up.

He didn’t want to admit to himself just how scared he was.  He was trying desperately to ignore the growing tightness in his chest that became worse when he thought of Athos.  He felt like he was on the verge of hysteria.  Tears were constantly trying to fight their way from his eyes and he was constantly having to push them away.  He needed to be strong.  He needed to hold everything together long enough to find Athos.

He didn’t want to live wihout the older man.  He tried to remember the last words he had said to him, hoping it was _I love you,_ but realising it was probably something more mundane and ordinary like _are we seeing Aramis and Porthos tomorrow?_ or _I wish it would stop raining._ He wanted Athos by his side desperately, it felt like a part of his soul was missing.  He wanted to feel the older man’s warmth next to him, holding him as he slept as he whispered sweet nothings into his ear.  D’Artagnan prayed that they would get the chance to do all of that again.

He knew that the longer they went without finding Athos the harder it would be to catch up with them.  D’Artagnan knew their only real hope was that he had not been moved from London.  Once he was in France then the younger man knew it would be over.  Rochefort would have won.  He could allow that to happen.

With a renewed sense of determination, d’Artagnan pushed the sadness he was feeling deep down inside him and headed back inside.  He stormed over to the prisoner and grabbed him by the shirt, lifting him from the chair and slamming him against the wall.

“Tell me where Athos is or so help me I will make the remaining hours of your existence complete hell,” he shouted.  The man looked at him in fear, terrified of the wild look in d’Artagnan’s eyes. 

“I will not tell you,” he tried to sound confident but it came out as a whisper.  He was too scared of the younger man.

“Where is he?”  D’Artagnan threw him to the floor and grabbed his neck, squeezing it lightly but enough to make the man struggle to breathe.  “All of this can be over quickly if you tell me.”

“He is… he is… he is being held near the docks,” the man replied in between gasps for breath.  “He will be moved tomorrow afternoon, there is a ship leaving for France.”

“That wasn’t so hard was it?”  D’Artagnan replied.  “Where exactly is he being held?”

“Rochefort had us rent a house not far from the docks.  It had been abandoned for years so no-one cared that we were there.”

“And is Athos all right.”

“He is alive.”

D’Artagnan snarled and punched the man hard in the face, knocking him out in the process.  He looked at him for a moment before standing.  He turned and faced Aramis and Porthos who looked equally shocked and impressed at the younger man.

“Well,” d’Artagnan said.  “What are you two doing standing there?  We have work to do.”

-x-

Athos must have fallen asleep at some point because when he woke his leg had been splinted.  He just didn’t know how long he had been asleep for.  He was still in terrible pain, his arms were still bound behind his back but at least now he could think more clearly.  Poirier must have been looking after him.

“You look better,” Poirier said as he entered the small dark room carrying a tray of food.  “Are you hungry?  You haven’t eaten in more than a day.”

“I am as it happens but it is hard to eat when I cannot use my hands.”

Poirier smiled, “Don’t let anyone know I did this,” he said as he cut the ropes binding Athos’ hands.  Athos gratefully took the food.  The pain had obviously clouded how hungry he actually was.

“Why did you splint my leg if I am returning to France to be executed?”  Athos asked between mouthfuls.

“I may be working for the devil but it doesn’t mean I have to be one myself.  You were in pain, I wanted to help.”

“Thank you.  How long before I am moved?”

“Not sure.  It is sometime tonight.  We are awaiting further confirmation.”

“Have you found my friends yet?”

“Not yet.  Someone went a few hours ago to search but he has not returned yet.”

“Good.  It means that they are safe.”

“You care more about the lives of your friends than you do about your own, why?”

“Because I care about them.  My fate is already sealed so it would seem but there is still a chance for them to survive.   I would rather that happened than for all of us to die.”

“I wished I cared enough about a person to do that,” Poirier whispered so quietly that Athos almost didn’t hear him.

“Do you have any siblings?”  Athos asked.

Poirier shook his head, “None of them lived past childhood.”

“They are my brothers.  They are my family.  I would do anything for them.”

“I don’t feel the same about any of these men.  None of them are honourable.  I think that they would kill me if they had the chance.”

“Why are you working with them then?”

“I am being paid.  I need the money and before I met you I was convinced that you were a deviant who deserved to die.”

“And what do you think now?”

Poirier sighed.  “I don’t know,” he admitted.  “I still think that what you do is wrong but I can see that you a good man.”

“Do you think I should die?”

Poirier took a moment to think about what he was going to say next.  “I don’t,” he said eventually.  “The good you have done outweighs your disgusting actions.”

“If I asked would you help me to escape?”  Athos asked, wondering if he was going too far.  “I will never return to France, I just want to live in peace until I die, whenever that may be.”

“But then I have to consider what would happen to me if I helped you,” Poirier told him.  “I would never be able to return home or Rochefort would have me killed.  I do not want to stay in England, it is a wretched country and I have a woman at home who I want to marry.  Tell me, what would you do in my situation?”

“I already am.  I am in a foreign country, separated from the person I love most in the world and I am about to die.  So tell me, what would you do in my situation?”

“I would want to run.”

“I want to run but it is not like I can do much in my current condition so I am dependent on others.  I have no doubt that my friends are searching for me now but they might not find me in time.  If they don’t would you help me?”

“How could I help you?  I am just one man in this.”

“I only need one man.  You just have to get me out of here before they come to move me.”

“That is easier said than done.  You were a Musketeer and you are used to this sort of thing.  I am just a man being paid to catch a criminal.  I cannot help you escape.”

“I am sorry.  I am asking too much of you.”

“I will not resist your friends if they do find you in time.  If they come I will allow them to take you away.”

“Thank you,” Athos replied.  “You are a good man.”

“Sometimes I would like to believe that,” Poirier told him.  “I have to bind your hands again,” he said apologetically.

“Of course,” Athos replied and obediently allowed the man to tie him back up.

Poirier picked up the plate and left the room, locking it behind him and once again Athos was left in the dark, left alone with his thoughts.

He wondered what his friends were doing.  Were they any further forward in finding out where he was or were they still floundering around London not able to figure out what happened?  He hoped they would find him before he was taken to the harbour but if not then at least he was starting to get through to Poirier.  He had meant what he said when he told him he was a good man.

Athos just hoped that Poirier would believe him before it was too late.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Poirier was conflicted and he did not know what to do.  Before he had taken this job it had all been so clear to him.  Athos was a bad man.  He was a deviant who had gone against god’s will by consummating a relationship with another man.  That made him evil and he should be killed for it.  He deserved to die.

And then he had met him.  At first he had been determined to keep his distance, to show his disgust at the man he reviled.  To his great regret he had even taken part in the beatings he had received but once he started talking to Athos, to find out what kind of a man he was he had found a good and honourable man.  Now he was confused.

It had been easy to hate a man he did not know but now he did he was not sure what to do.  Could he let a man he did not inherently despise simply because he had chosen to give in to love?  He had been so quick to judge a man he had never met and then found the man to be something completely different.

When Rochefort had hired him he had told him and the others that Athos and d’Artagnan, once great Musketeers, had brought the regiment into disrepute and they needed to be returned to France to face justice and despite disliking Rochefort on sight Poirier agreed.  Now he didn’t know.

He made his way through the house they had been holding Athos and found one of his fellow guards.

“Still alive is he?”  The man said and Poirier felt his skin crawl slightly.  The man was older than him, a former soldier, and he hated Athos.  Poirier firmly held the belief that he would kill Athos if he had the chance.

“Why wouldn’t he be?”  Poirier asked.  “Unless you have done something to hurt him.”

“The only time I go near that man is to give him the punishment he deserves.  My only regret in all of this is that I will not be able to kill him myself.”

“Why do you hate him so much?”  Poirier wanted to understand the level of hate this man held for Athos.

“Where to start?  Homosexuals belong to the devil that is reason enough but he is a Musketeer.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“They are so full of themselves, think that they are better than other soldiers.  Athos needs to be taught that he is not.”

Poirier was beginning to understand why this man hated Athos so much.  He was jealous that he had achieved so much whereas the man in front of him had done nothing.

“So you believe that he should die because he is a good soldier?”

“I believe he should get what he deserves.  Do you not?”

“I think he deserves punishment for his deviancy but at the end of the day it is up to god to deliver such punishment.  I am not going to judge him for who he is as a soldier because I have never seen him fight.”

“You don’t want him to die do you?”  He accused Poirier.  “He has got to you, twisted your head and made you see things that are not there.  Never forget that he is a sodomite and he deserves to die just for that reason.  He is a disgusting pervert and if you side with him then you are no better than he is and should face the same punishment.”

Poirier was shocked by the venom the man was spouting simply because Athos was a Musketeer.  He was hiding behind the veneer of hating Athos’ homosexuality but that was really not the reason.

“I am going to try and sleep for a few hours,” Poirier announced, not wanting to continue the conversation.  “It is going to be a long day,” he did not wait for the man to respond.

As he made his way to the room where all the guards had been sleeping Poirier realised that he could not let Athos go back to France.  Yes, he did agree that Athos should be punished but now he realised that none of this had anything to do with his relationship with d’Artagnan.  It was all about his status as a Musketeer.  It was why the other soldiers wanted him punished and it was the reason Rochefort hated him.

Poirier could not let Athos to die.

-x-

“Did you ever think about how disgusting you are when you were defiling another man?”  The guard, the one Poirier had just been speaking to, asked Athos as he entered his room; waking him from a light sleep.

“What?”  He asked, his tired brain unable to comprehend what the man was saying.

“Did you ever wonder just how wrong it was or did you manage to convince yourself that it was perfectly all right to fuck another man?”

“I am under no illusions that why I am doing is wrong in the eyes of the law and of god but I do not believe that it is wrong for me to love.”

“You are unbelievable!”  He snorted.  “How can you not see that what you do is wrong?”

“Is it wrong to love?”  Athos asked, trying his hardest to keep his composure.

“It is wrong to love a man.”

“And is it wrong to love a murderer because I did that too?  I loved a woman who lied and killed but according to you that is fine because she was not a man.”

Athos felt a fist connect with his face and he rolled onto his side, unable to fight back due to his bonds.  A moment later he felt a foot in his gut and he fought not to throw up.

“You disgust me,” the man screamed as he continued to beat Athos who could do nothing to fight back.  “You deserve to die.”

Athos wanted to tell him to stop but he hurt too much to call out so he just lay there and took whatever punishment the man wanted to give him.  Eventually it ended and Athos was left lying on the floor beaten and bloodied.

“Mon dieu,” he heard Poirier’s voice come from the doorway but Athos couldn’t move.  It hurt too much.  “How could he do this?”  He rushed to Athos’ side and checked his injuries.  “You cannot stay here, it is too dangerous.  I don’t believe you are going to make it back to France alive.  I have to get you out of here.  Do you think you can move?”  He quickly cut Athos’ bonds with a knife.

Athos wasn’t sure that he wanted to move even if he could but he nodded anyway.  He was desperate to escape this hell.  A moment later he felt Poirier lift him to his feet.  He nearly collapsed back to the floor when he put his weight on his broken leg but Poirier held him up.

“Come on,” he said.  “Let’s go.”

-x-

“Are you sure this is the place?  Porthos asked as the three men edged their way closer to one of the buildings near the docks.

“Almost certain,” Aramis replied.  “I was talking to some of the workers and they said they’d noticed a lot of men coming and going from this building.  One of them said they had heard a couple of them talking French.”

“Looks promising.  So, what’s the plan?  Sneak in?  Storm the building?”

“Apart from killing everyone on sight I don’t have a plan,” d’Artagnan replied, clutching his sword tight in his hand.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Porthos replied.  “Have you seen anyone come out of the building?”

D’Artagnan had been watching the building while Aramis asked around for any information.  He shook his head, “No-one has come or gone.”

“They will soon,” Aramis replied.  “The ship to France leaves at 4pm and I do not think they will try to move him before they have to.  They are trying hard not to draw too much attention to themselves.  We should be able to take them by surprise, after all, they don’t know where we are.”

The three men were glad that they at least had the element of surprise in their attack.  Apart from the one man they had left tied up in Athos’ house, none of the other captors had any idea where they were.  They were hoping they could enter the building, find Athos and leave quickly.

“Shall we go then?”  Porthos asked.

“No time like the present,” Aramis looked at his friend and grinned.  “I have missed this.”

“Nothing like a good fight,” Porthos grinned back.

“Let’s go,” d’Artagnan said.  He was obviously itching for a fight.

-x-

Poirier froze in his tracks when he heard the noise.  “Damn,” he cursed as he held Athos up.  Their progress out of the building had been slow, even slower since Athos had been recently beaten so badly but Poirier had not expected for them to be caught so quickly.  “They must know.”

Athos lifted his head, listening to the noise.  “Fighting,” he managed to utter.

“What?”

“There is fighting,” he repeated.

“Who would be fighting?”

“I don’t know,” every word Athos spoke was a hardship.  He wanted to lie down and close his eyes so he could forget all of the pain but Poirier kept him awake.  For some reason he was determined to keep the older man alive.

“What do we do?”  Poirier asked.  Unlike Athos, he had very little experience with the realities of fighting.

“I can’t fight,” Athos replied.  “You will have to protect us.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“If you want to live then you will have to.  They will kill us both otherwise.”

“I don’t even have a sword or a gun.  I didn’t even think about that when I came to free you.”

Athos groaned as the fighting came nearer.  He wondered what was happening.  Were the men fighting amongst themselves or could he dare to hope that it was his friends coming to rescue him.  He decided it would be better just to assume it was the enemy because he didn’t want to get his hopes up that he might be rescued.  “Just put me down and prepare yourself.”

Poirier hesitantly lowered Athos to the floor.  He felt terrified.  When he had took the job of helping to find and transport Athos back to France he had not dreamed that matters would become this complicated.  He had assumed it would be a simple matter with no need for fighting.  He was not prepared for this.

“You are a very troublesome man, Athos,” he said without a hint of malice.  Over the past day or so he had become rather fond of the older man.  He liked his sense of honour and, although he did not agree with Athos’ choice of lover, he thought him a good man.

“I have often been told that” Athos replied.  “Often much to the despair of Captain Treville.”

“He must have loved you,” Poirier replied, trying to keep the conversation light but unable to hide the fear in his voice.

“He is a good man,” Athos replied, “And a fine soldier.  I miss him.”

“I am sure he misses you too.”

“At least one person in France does, I suppose,” Athos sounded sad.

“Do you wish things were different?  That you were still in France?”

“I wish that sometimes but it can never be,” Athos told him but then changed the subject.  “They are coming.  Be prepared.”

He watched as Poirier tense as he prepared to defend their lives.  The fighting grew closer and closer and for a moment he thought he heard a familiar voice in the ruckus but he still did not dare to hope.

“They are coming,” Poirier whispered quietly as he heard the door open.

Athos tensed and prepared himself for what was going to come next.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update, work has been crazy and I've been knackered. This isn't as long as the other chapters but I just wanted to get something posted.

Chapter Six

“Oh thank god,” Athos muttered to himself when he saw d’Artagnan enter the room; having expected one of his captors.  Seeing the young man again after having suffered so much was like the light returning to his life.  In one single second he felt safe again.

“Athos!”  D’Artagnan cried out in relied and hurried to his side, kneeling down next to the injured man.  “You’re hurt,” he looked over Athos’ various wounds with a concerned look on his face.  “Are you all right?”

“I’ve been better,” Athos replied before d’Artagnan leaned in and kissed him.  Athos welcomed the moment of tenderness having spent the last couple of days in so much pain and d’Artagnan was soft and warm.  Athos never wanted to leave his embrace.  Once they parted Athos looked up to see an embarrassed looking Poirier.  D’Artagnan noticed too.

“Sorry,” he apologised, his face turning red.  “I got caught up in the moment.”

“This is Poirier,” Athos told him.  “He was hired by Rocefort to bring us back to France but he’s helping me escape instead.”

D’Artagnan nodded in greeting.  He wasn’t sure if he trusted this other man but he decided not to say anything for the time being.  They needed all the help they could get at the moment.  “We should get going.  Aramis and Porthos are taking care of the last couple of men but I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

The last time d’Artagnan had seen either men was when Aramis yelled at him to go and find Athos and help him out.  They planned to separate and meet up later.  D’Artagnan hoped that everything was still going according to plan.

“Do you have a plan?”  Athos asked; his voice far too weak and shaky for d’Artagnan’s liking, as the younger man wound his arms around him and helped him stand.  Poirier took the other side and they hauled them up.

“We get out of here as quickly as possible,” d’Artagnan replied.

“That’s not a very good plan.”

“Aramis and Porthos are making sure there’s a distraction.”

“It’s still not a very good plan.”

“Be quiet.  If you shut up then we’ll get out of here quicker.”

“I’m just pointing out that there are so many things that can go wrong.”

“It’ll be fine we just need to keep on moving.  Your friend doesn’t mind hurrying, do you?”

“I’m all for getting out of here as quickly as possible but where are we going?”

“We can’t go back to my house,” Athos said.  He wasn’t sure how much d’Artagnan actually knew about his capture but he was certain that his home was being watched.

“No, we left one of your captors there,” d’Artagnan explained.  “He tried to get me too but I stopped him and he’s the one who told us where you were.  When we were making this plan we all agreed to meet up at my house and discuss things from there.  We should be safe there for a couple of days but then I think we will have to move on.  You’re not really in any condition to be moving though,” he said as they hauled Athos through the building towards the door.

Athos winced in pain.  As much as he wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible he was in a lot of pain.  Luckily d’Artagnan noticed.

“I know it hurts but we need to get you somewhere safe,” he said.  “Can you hold out just a little bit longer?”

“I’ll have to,” Athos grimaced.  He felt like he was going to pass out from the pain.  He wished he would because then it wouldn’t hurt so much.  “Just hurry, please.”

“We’ll go as fast as you can manage.  Just keep breathing.”

“That’s a little bit difficult,” Athos replied.  IN the background he could just about hear Aramis and Porthos fighting.  He wished he could see his friends.  He wanted to talk to them so badly.

“We’re nearly there, just a few more steps and we’ll be out.  Just keep breathing.”

It was becoming harder and harder for Athos to breathe.  Everywhere hurt so much he just couldn’t concentrate.  He could feel his heart racing and his stomach churning, he wanted to be sick.  “Please hurry,” he gasped and he felt d’Artagnan and Poirier pick up the pace.  His vision blurred and he couldn’t see where they were going.  The pain grew worse and worse until finally they stopped.

D’Artagnan and Poirier gently lowered Athos to the ground and d’Artagnan held the older man as he struggled to control his breathing.  “It’s all right,” he soothed.  “It’s going to be all right.”

Eventually Athos’ vision cleared and his breathing calmed and he became aware of their surroundings.  They had escaped and were now crouched in an alleyway.  “Where are we?”  He gasped.

“Far enough away so that they won’t find us but we’re not home yet.  I just wanted to make sure you were all right before we carried on.”

“It hurts too much,” Athos replied.  “I just want it to be over.”

“It will be soon,” Poirier told him.  “We’re almost there.”

“If we don’t hurry then Aramis and Porthos will beat us back.  You don’t want to lose to them do you?”  D’Artagnan joked and Athos managed a small smile.

“No, would’t want that,” he replied as he leaned into d’Artagnan’s gentle touch.  “I’m so tired.”

“I know.  It’s been so hard on you but we just have to go a little bit further and then you can sleep all you want.  I’ll even make sure Aramis doesn’t wake you up while he’s checking your injuries,” he turned to Poirier.  “We need to hurry.  I don’t like how much he is hurting.”

“Let’s go then,” Poirier said and they both moved to pick up Athos.

“Don’t,” he moaned.  “Please,” his vision started to blur again and the sick feeling returned to his stomach.  The pain was too intense.  He knew he wasn’t going to make it back.

“It’s only for a little while longer,” d’Artagnan tried to calm him but the pain was too much for Athos, his breathing became very erratic.  “We’ll be home soon, just try to hold on.  Please don’t give up,” he begged.  “I love you.”

Athos felt the ground fall out from underneath him and everything went black.  The last thing he heard was d’Artagnan crying out his name.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

D’Artagnan paced up and down the tiny room as he anxiously waited for Aramis and Porthos to return.  He and Poirier had dragged Athos back to d’Artagnan’s home when he had collapsed and he was now lying in the bed looking almost dead.  D’Artagnan was on the verge of panicking.  Athos had not woken and he looked as if he was barely breathing.  He couldn’t see how things could get any worse.

Poirier was sitting in a chair silently watching d’Artagnan.  He was trying to figure the younger man out.  He wanted to know if he could trust him.

“Where are they?”  D’Artagnan said out loud, startling Poirier out of his thoughts.  “They should be back by now,” his voice was filled with worry.  He went over to Athos and sat down on the edge of the bed, checking over his wounds and he ran his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sure they will be back soon.”

“Something has to have gone wrong.  They should be back.  Athos needs them right now.”

“How bad is he?”

“I don’t know,” d’Artagnan sighed.  “I can tell it’s bad but I need Aramis to check him over so I know how bad it is.”  He stood up and started pacing again.  He cried out in frustration.  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“How was it supposed to be?”

“It was supposed to be a fresh start,” d’Artagnan replied.  “We were supposed to run away and start a new life together.  We were supposed to be happy.  It was supposed to be easy but nothing ever is, is it?  Rochefort is never going to stop.  He wants us dead and he is just going to keep on sending people after us until we are,” d’Artagnan sat back down on the edge of the bed and stared lovingly at Athos.  “I love him so much.”

“He loves you too,” Poirier told the younger man.

“I know.  He wouldn’t have sacrificed so much if he didn’t.  He could have just told me he didn’t feel for me that way if he wanted to.  Maybe it would have been better if he had.  We’d still be Musketeers if he’d just pushed me away.”

Poirier realised he was beginning to understand d’Artagnan.  He could see that he loved the older man with all his heart but at the same time he felt an incredible guilt.  “Would you want that?  To be a Musketeer but not be with the man you love?”

“No,” d’Artagnan replied after a long pause.  “Don’t get me wrong I loved being a Musketeer but I love Athos more.  I just hope that one day he doesn’t look back and regret his decision.”

“I’m sure he will never regret it.  He told me that all he wants to do is live the rest of his life with you.  I don’t think he cares anymore about being a Musketeer,” Poirier smiled softly at d’Artagnan.

“And what do you think about all this?”

“If you had asked me a week ago I would have said that the two of you were disgusting and deserved to be executed.  I have since learned that it is not always that simple.  Athos is a good man.  He is honourable and strong and he is willing to do whatever it takes.  He told me that he thinks you are a good man too and I believe he is right about that but I still think that what you do is wrong.”

“Then why did you help Athos escape.”

“Because I don’t believe that he should die for being in love, especially when I respect him as a man.  Exile should be punishment enough.”

“Thank you for being honest,” d’Artagnan said and then he paused, taking another moment to look at Athos.  He was still deathly pale but at least his breathing at strengthened.  He reached out and touched his forehead, glad that it was still cool so at least there was currently no infection.  “What are you going to do now?”  He asked Poirier.

“I don’t know,” he replied.  “You and your friends killed everyone working for Rochefort so if I return to Paris it will look suspicious.  He will know that I helped you escape and I’ll be punished for that.  I don’t want to die but I do not want to stay in England.  I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll help you to figure something out,” d’Artagnan replied.  “We owe you that much for helping Athos.”

“How is he?”

“Still unconscious but I don’t think there’s any infection.  It’s the broken leg I’m most worried about but Aramis will be able to tell us if there is anything worse.  Did you splint it?”

“Yes it was.”

“Why?”

“Because his leg was causing him pain and I didn’t like to see him suffer.  I’m not as sadistic as some of the men Rochefort hired.”

“Why did you agree to work for Rochefort?  He’s not exactly the most trustworthy of men.”

“I agree with you there.  I needed the money.”

“Tell me, how is Paris?  I hear so little news in London.”

“It is much the same as always.  Except for Rochefort.  He seems to be becoming more powerful with every passing day.  He seems to have a hold on the King that no-one else can penetrate.”

“I wonder what his game is,” d’Artagnan mused out loud.  “I never trusted him.”

“You were right not to.  I overheard some people say that he is a Spanish spy and he is trying to destroy the French royal family from the inside.  Another said it was the Queen he was really after, that he loves her and wants to marry her.”

D’Artagnan felt a surge of terror course through his veins.  This was not the news he wanted to be hearing.  “I wish there was something I could do.”

“Unless there was a way for you to return to France unnoticed there is nothing you can do.  Rochefort knows everything and the moment you set foot on French soil you would be executed.”

“God damn it,” d’Artagnan sighed.  “Why does everything have to be such a mess?”

Poirier sympathised with the younger man’s frustration.  “You have to trust in god that everything will be all right.”

“I’m beginning to think that god has nothing to do with any of this,” d’Artagnan replied.

Just as Poirier was opening his mouth to respond Athos let out a loud groan.

“Athos,” d’Artagnan cried out and turned his attentions back to the older man.  “Are you all right?  Where are you hurting?”

“D’Artagnan?”  Athos groaned.  “You’re all right?”

“I’m fine, what about you?”

“Everywhere hurts.  Where am I?”

“At my house, remember?  It’s safer than yours at the moment.”

“Aramis and Porthos?”  Athos said as he tried to sit up only to immediately discover that it wasn’t such a good idea.  He let out a loud cry of pain.

“Lie down, you need to rest,” d’Artagnan insisted as he pushed Athos back onto the bed.  “They haven’t returned yet.”

“That’s a bad thing, isn’t it?”

“They should be here by now.  I’m worried about them.”

“They’ll be fine, they are good fighters.”

“I just wish they were here.  I would feel a lot better knowing that we are all safe and in one piece,” d’Artagnan took Athos’ hand and squeezed it gently.   “Are you going to pass out on me again?”

“I sincerely hope not,” Athos replied. 

The door opened and d’Artagnan was just about to reach for his sword before he saw Aramis and Porthos step over the threshold.  “Oh thank god you’re both all right,” he exclaimed and jumped up from the bed to hug them both tightly.  “I was afraid something was wrong.”

“How could yeh think somethin’ had gone wrong?”  Porthos asked with his usual boisterousness.  He seemed completely unfazed by the entire expedition.

“You were gone for so long.”

“We were just taking care of the one who nearly got away,” Aramis replied referring to the man they had left tied up at Athos’ house.  “He won’t be a problem anymore.”

“You need to take a look at Athos,” d’Artagnan said as he practically dragged Aramis over to the bed to the sick man.  “He collapsed shortly after we got him out and he’s only just woken up.  His leg is broken I know that and he has been beaten but I cannot tell how bad it is.”

“You look as if you have been in the wars, old friend,” Aramis greeted Athos who smiled softly at him.

“I feel a million times worse,” he replied.

“Let’s take a look at you.”

“And who is this?”  Porthos asked as he stared at Poirier who had the sense to look scared at the more physically imposing man.

“His name is Poirier.  He helped me bring Athos here.  He’s the one who splinted Athos’ leg.”

“He did a good job,” Aramis interrupted.  “You probably helped to save his leg.”

“He was working for Rochefort but we can trust him,” d’Artagnan told Porthos and Aramis.  “I couldn’t have got Athos out of there without him.”

“I’ll reserve my judgment until I know him better,” Porthos replied, eying Poirier suspiciously.

“He was just telling me about what was happening in France,” d’Artagnan tried to change the subject somewhat.  “It doesn’t sound good.  Rochefort is getting too powerful.  We have to do something.  We have to stop him.”

“What can we do?”  Porthos replied.  “If he’s as powerful as you say he is he’ll kill us before we get anywhere near him.”

“He already knows where we are,” Aramis interjected.  “He sent men after us.”

“And not forgetting the fact that we cannot set foot in France again,” Athos added weakly.  “It is not just Rochefort that would see us dead but the church as well.  As much as I want to stop Rochefort there is no way that we can do anything.”

“He can’t get away with this,” d’Artagnan argued. 

“I know and I agree,” Aramis told the younger man, “But there is nothing we can really do at the moment.  Athos has to be the priority now.  We have to make sure he gets better and then move on from London before Rochefort sends anyone else after us.  Once no-one returns from England he will know his plan failed and he won’t be happy with that.”

“I know,” d’Artagnan sighed.  “I just wish we weren’t in this position.  I feel so helpless sitting here doing nothing.  How is Athos?”  He asked Aramis who was still examining Athos.

“As I said, splinting his leg has probably saved it so we don’t need to worry too much about that.  He does have a couple of broken ribs and a lot of bruises but they should heal up on their own provided he rests.  You’re going to be stuck in bed for quite a while I’m afraid.”

“Damn, and here was me wanting to go dancing,” Athos replied dryly.

“I’m sure you would look lovely in a frock,” Aramis quipped back.  “Don’t worry, you’ll be back to your old self in no time.  Just don’t do anything to make your injuries worse.”

“At the moment I would just settle for some sleep.”

“Then I shall let you rest.  It has been a very long couple of days, I am sure we are all in need of a good night’s sleep.”

“Now tha’ I can agree with,” Porthos replied.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any more bedding,” d’Artagnan apologised.  “I spend more time with Athos than I do here.”

“I’m sure we can make do with the floor,” Aramis replied.  “We have slept in worse conditions.”

“I think I am going to stay up for a little while longer,” d’Artagnan said.  “Keep an eye on Athos, make sure he’s all right.”

“I know you are worried about him but he will be all right.  He has been very lucky.”

“I know but I just want to be with him for a while.  It’s been two days since I’ve seen him.”

“All right but don’t neglect yourself.  You’ve barely rested these last few days either.”

“I will sleep in an hour or so.  I just need to make sure he is really here.”

Aramis smiled at the younger man, understanding what he was saying.  “Don’t stay up too long,” he instructed.

“I won’t, I promise,” d’Artagnan replied and he made himself comfortable in a chair next to the bed as he watched Athos sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. This is the last chapter. It just felt like a natural place to end this story. Thanks for reading xxx

Chapter Eight

“You need to sleep eventually,” Athos said sleepily.  He had opened his eyes to find d’Artagnan sitting next to the bed.  “You can’t watch me forever.”

“I can try,” d’Artagnan said but the tiredness in his voice was evident.  “I just can’t quite believe you’re here.”

“I am here and I am not going anywhere so get some sleep.”

D’Artagnan leaned in and kissed Athos softly on the lips, so soft it was as if he thought Athos was going to break.  Just as he started to pull away Athos pulled him back and deepened the kiss.  He pulled him down until d’Artagnan was lying with him on the bed. 

“See, now you’re in bed, you have to sleep.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.  Just sleep.”

D’Artagnan closed his eyes and a few moments later Athos heard his breathing even out.  Content that his younger lover had finally fallen asleep, he closed his eyes too and gave in to the exhaustion.

-x-

Porthos woke a few hours later to find Aramis also awake and sitting at the table looking pensive.  Feeling concerned for his friend he got up and sat down next to him.  “What’s wrong?”  He asked.

“I have to return to France,” Aramis said hesitantly, sadness filling his voice.  It was not something that he had ever wanted to do but he had to.

“What?  Why?”

“You heard d’Artagnan, Rochefort is growing too powerful.  I have to stop him before he does something terrible like overthrow the royal family.”

“An’ why is it tha’ you have teh do it?  Why not someone else?”

“I have to,” Aramis replied with more determination despite not answering the question.  “It’s my duty.”

“Then it’s mine too but yeh don’ see me hurrying back.  They want Athos and d’Artagnan dead.”

“I know but it’s something that I have to do.”

“At least tell me why.”

Aramis sighed.  He had been keeping his secret from Porthos for so long now that he didn’t even know where to start.  “I’ve been keeping something from you.  A secret and it’s a big one.”

“What is it?”

“The Dauphin…”  Aramis started but paused, finding it hard to continue.  He didn’t know how Porthos was going to react.  Would he be angry?  Would he punch Aramis or yell at him for being so stupid?  Or would he understand and support him?  There was only one way to find out.  “The Dauphin is my son.”

Aramis braced himself for Porthos’ reaction but nothing came.  He looked at his friend and brother who was simply staring back at him.  “Are you sure?”  He asked quietly.

“As much as I can be,” Aramis replied.  “The timing fits.  He’s my son, I know it.”

Porthos stared at him for a moment longer before slapping him hard on the shoulder. 

“Ow,” Aramis hissed.

“’Ow could’ja sleep with the queen?”  Porthos hissed back.  “Does anyone else know?”

“Athos does for certain.  Richelieu did too, I think.”

“What about d’Artagnan?”

“Unless Athos told him then he doesn’t know.  He’s never given any indication that he knows so I have to assume Athos hasn’t told him.”

Porthos sighed wearily.  “So you’re determined to go back?”

“I have to.  I can’t sit here whilst I know that Rochefort is planning something awful.  If it affects the King and the Queen then it will affect the Dauphin as well.  He needs to be stopped.”

“I don’ think Athos and d’Artagnan are gonna be too happy ‘bout this.”

“It’s not their decision to make,” he looked over at the sleeping pair.  They looked so comfortable together despite Athos’ injuries.  “I know they cannot help me, they would want to but it will be months before Athos is fully healed.”

“So you’ll just leave them?”

“I’ll return.”

“If you don’ die first.”

“I will return,” Aramis promised.

“You don’ have to promise that to me.  I’m comin’ with ya,” Porthos announced.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know Athos and d’Artagnan can’t but I can and I will.  You’ll only get yerself killed if I’m not there to keep yeh alive.”

Aramis let out a small huff of laughter.  “I should have known that you wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Never,” Porthos smiled.  “You need help and that’s exactly what I’m gonna give yer.  But you’re the one who has to tell them.”

“And I will.”

“When are you wanting to leave?”

“As soon as possible ideally.  It’s going to be hard to get back into France, and Paris especially, unnoticed.  I don’t even have a plan yet beyond don’t get killed.”

“We’ll think of something.  I don’t think Athos and d’Artagnan are gonna be too thrilled though.”

“I know and I hate to leave them but there is no other choice.  Athos’ injuries are bad enough but the moment they set foot on French soil they will be killed.  At least with us it is only Rochefort who wants us dead; the church wants them dead as well.  I don’t want to leave them any more than they will want me to leave but it has to be done.”

“When are yeh gonna do it?”

“When they wake.  They’ve both been through so much I want to let them sleep as long as possible.”

“Speaking of which, we should probably do the same.”

“You sleep.  I want to stay up and think some more.”

-x-

Athos awoke to a painfully aching leg.  He winced and shifted in the bed trying to feel more comfortable but he only succeeded in waking d’Artagnan too.

“Are you all right?”  D’Artagnan asked, feeling very worried for his injured lover.  “You’re hurting aren’t you?”

“My leg mostly,” Athos replied through gritted teeth.  “Can’t get comfortable.”  D’Artagnan scrambled up into a sitting position.  “You don’t need to get up,” Athos told him.

“I just wanted to give you more space.”

“You don’t need to.”

In that moment d’Artagnan saw just how much the past few days had scared Athos.   The older man would never say that he had been terrified but in that moment his face betrayed his anguish.  He wanted to be close to d’Artagnan.

“Are you sure?  You don’t want me to wake Aramis?”

“I’m sure.  Please, just lie back down.  The pain will pass eventually,” d’Artagnan hesitantly lay down next to him again and wrapped his arms around Athos’ chest.

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” d’Artagnan sighed.  “I was so scared that I was never going to see you again.  Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I promise,” Athos said quietly and he held the younger man until he had fallen asleep.

Sleep did not return so easily for Athos.  His leg still ached a lot making it hard for him to relax enough to sleep so he lay awake for a while and listened to d’Artagnan breathe.  He was glad to have been rescued.  If he hadn’t then he would surely be on a boat back to France by now waiting for his execution but that had been stayed for a while longer.  He knew that they couldn’t stay here, it was too dangerous and Rochefort was certain to send more men after them.  They would have to leave as soon as he was able to move.

He looked up and noticed that Aramis was also not asleep but was sitting at the table deep in thought.  Not wanting to wake d’Artagnan up a second time Athos let it go and closed his eyes; willing himself to sleep and eventually he did.

The next morning there was a tension in the air that d’Artagnan could feel from the moment he woke but didn’t know what it was about.  Athos was still sleeping lightly next to him but Aramis and Porthos were both up looking stressed.  Poirier sat with them looking nervous.  Something was up.

“What’s going on?”  He asked as he climbed out of bed.  He felt as nervous as Poirier looked.  His shifting woke Athos who groaned.

“What time is it?”  He muttered as he sat up.

“It’s morning,” Aramis replied.  There was a quietness in his voice that Athos immediately picked up on.

“What is going on?”  He asked.

“I don’t know,” d’Artagnan replied.  “But I have a feeling that Aramis is about to tell us.”

Aramis sighed.  This was a lot harder than he had imagined.  “I am returning to France,” he said eventually.

“What?”  D’Artagnan cried.  “Why?”

“After what you said last night about Rochefort I realised that I have no choice but to return.”  D’Artagnan looked at him confused but Athos understood the reason why.  He knew Aramis had to go back.

“Are you certain?”  Athos asked.  “It will be very dangerous.”

“I know and I am.  Porthos has said he will come with me and Poirier too.  None of us want to see Rochefort succeed with his plans.”

“I only wish I could return with you,” Athos said. 

“I don’t understand,” d’Artagnan said.  “What is going on?”

“Come with me and I will explain everything,” Aramis replied and led d’Artagnan outside.  He wanted to speak to the younger man privately.  This left Athos, Porthos and Poirier alone.

“I am glad you are both going with him.  He’s going to need all the help he can get.”

“Yeah,” Porthos agreed.  “Someone has to keep him alive.”

Athos smiled sadly.  “I am going to miss you all.  It’s not going to be the same here without you.”

“You’ll have d’Artagnan to keep you company,” Poirier said.  “You’ll hardly notice that we’re gone.”

“Yeh, even if he could go he wouldn’t leave you,” Porthos reassured.

“I just feel so useless to you all.  When are you leaving?”

“As soon as we can find a ship to take us,” Porthos told him.  “And you’d never be useless.  We’ll be back before yeh know it.  Yeh couldn’t keep us away from you if yeh tried.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Athos replied just as d’Artagnan and Aramis re-entered the house.  D’Artagnan looked angry as he sat down next to Athos.  “Are you all right?”  He asked the younger man.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, his voice tense.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was too dangerous,” Athos replied.  “If anyone found out then Aramis would be dead.  Besides, it was not my secret to tell.  Don’t let this come between us all.  Not when they are leaving so soon.”

“I won’t,” d’Artagnan sighed and leaned in to kiss Athos.  “I just don’t want them to leave.”

“Me neither but it’s not like we can stop them.  They’re grown men and they can make their own decisions.  All we can hope for is the best.”

“I know,” d’Artagnan replied as he leaned into Athos’ embrace.  “I just don’t want this to be the end.”

“It won’t be.  I promise you.”

-x-

Despite Athos wanting to go with them to the docks to say goodbye his leg was not in any condition to be travelling that far so he had to be content with saying his farewells from his bed.  D’Artagnan was going with them.

Aramis leaned down and gave Athos a hug.  “Don’t do anything stupid while we’re gone,” he said.  “And don’t let d’Artagnan do anything stupid while you’re at it.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” Athos smiled despite the sadness he felt.  “Be careful.”

“You know I will,” Aramis smiled back and stood up so he could make way for Porthos who pulled Athos into a tight embrace, so tight he could barely breathe.

“Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Athos told Porthos.  “Drag him back to England if you have to.”

“You know I will,” Porthos laughed despite the tears that were forming in his eyes.  “Stay safe, all right?”

“I will.  I won’t be doing anything reckless for quite a while.”

Poirier took his turn next.  He took Athos’ hand.  “I am going to miss you more than I ever thought possible,” he said.

“You turned out to be a rather good friend for a jailor,” Athos half joked.  “Good luck.  I hope you manage to marry that woman you love so much.”

“Thank you and I wish you all the best too.”

Athos felt his chest constrict as he watched his friends leave and he could only lie on the bed and hope that it would not be for the last time.

D’Artagnan was more reluctant to let his friends leave.  He hugged both Aramis and Porthos tighter than they ever thought possible and did not even try to hide the tears in his eyes.

“Be careful,” he said to Aramis.  “And kill Rochefort for us.”

“Of course,” Aramis laughed through the tears which had formed in his eyes.  “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

“I know, I know.  I just worry.   I would rather be going with you than sitting around waiting for you to return.  It doesn’t feel right being here.”

“Athos needs you.  He isn’t up for travelling and you know that neither of you would get very far in France.  I would rather you were safe here.  At least I know that I won’t have to watch you die.”

D’Artagnan took a step back and said his final goodbyes as he watched his friends board the ship to France.  He stood there for longer than he should have and watched as the ship became a tiny speck in the distance before it disappeared completely.  Only then did he return home.

Athos was sitting on the bed upon his return.  “Are you all right?”  He asked as d’Artagnan lay down next to him and rested his head on his lap.

“I will be,” he sighed and closed his eyes as Athos ran his hands through his dark hair.  “I miss them already.”

“I do too.  They will be fine though and they will return.  I have no doubt about that.”

“I’m not going to stop worrying about them.  Not until I see them again.”

“Neither am I but we have to trust that they can defeat Rochefort.”

D’Artagnan sat up and leaned in to kiss Athos.  “It’s so quiet without them.”

“Too quiet.  I fear we won’t know what to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t know,” d’Artagnan replied, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.  “I think we can find enough trouble to be keeping ourselves busy with until the return.”

And Athos had no doubt that d’Artagnan was right.


End file.
